


The Challenges of Being Married to a Prince

by flowersheep



Series: A Royal Christmas [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Modern Royalty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-26 02:45:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13226514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowersheep/pseuds/flowersheep
Summary: The first and last time Merlin will ever escort his sister in law, Princess Morgana Pendragon of Albion, to any sort of public eventever.





	The Challenges of Being Married to a Prince

**Author's Note:**

> If you follow me on tumblr then you know I've been promising for like two weeks to post a little christmas present. Which I've finally gotten around to doing just in time for the new year.
> 
> For a while I've been planning on writing a sequel to A Royal Christmas. Life, unfortunately, keeps getting in the way of my resolution to start an annual holiday fic tradition. Last year it was a new job and a sinus infection. This year it was a different job and some family stuff. But I recalled that I had at least one scene for that sequel fully written and if the sequel itself was gonna be delayed for another year then at least I could give you guys _something_.
> 
> So, here it is. This takes place probably early December of the year following the end of A Royal Christmas.
> 
> As always, Morgana is an utter delight and I love her.

Morgana yanked the closet door open and hissed, “Get your arse out here right now! You are not leaving me alone with these people!” Merlin squeaked, tried to duck behind a vacuum cleaner, and instead knocked over several brooms.

“No!” he hissed back. “I’m staying right here until it’s time to leave!”

“Merlin you are a member of the nobility now-“

“Barely.”

“-and you will damn well act like it!” Morgana grabbed his arm in a bruising grip and dragged Merlin out of the closet. “You will stand next to me and smile and make polite conversation like a good escort or I swear I will make sure that at the next public royal family event you will spend the entire time standing next to Uther!”

Merlin gaped. “You _wouldn't_.”

“I most certainly would. Now shut up and smile.”

Merlin did as told just in time for Morgana to drag him back into the parlor where the rest of the guests were still mingling. A few subtle shifts and suddenly her hand was tucked in the crook of Merlin’s elbow, the picture of a demure princess being escorted by her brother in law. Damn Arthur for being unable to attend. These things always went way smoother when Merlin could hide behind his husband. Metaphorically, of course. He would never physically hide behind Arthur (that one time at Lady Vivian’s pool party didn’t count).

Social events were undoubtedly Merlin’s least favorite part of his new life. Balls, parties, charity events, press conferences, the list went on, an endless stream of public events that made Merlin want to crawl into a hole and die. Sometimes it seemed like all he did was plaster a smile on his face for someone else’s benefit. After all this time it was somewhat easier, but Merlin still got that nervous feeling of his stomach dropping through the floor before every interaction with a member of the nobility.

“I forgot who’s party we’re at,” Merlin whispered, leaning in close to Morgana.

“Lord Bayard,” Morgana said. “He and Uther haven’t gotten along for years, but they’ve been trying recently patch things up and I’m positive they want to solidify relations between our families through marriage.”

“Is that why that one guy keeps following us around trying to talk to you?”

“Lord Bayard’s son, yes.” Morgana wrinkled her nose. “I’d rather throw myself in a wood chipper than marry him. He keeps telling me that if were his wife- _purely_ hypothetically of course-“

“Of course.”

“-then I would never need to bother with makeup because he would think I’m beautiful anyway.” She scoffed. “As if I ever wear makeup for men in the first place. I wear makeup because when I look in the mirror and see this-” She gestured to her face. “-I feel like I could murder someone and get away with it.”

“That’s...nice,” Merlin said slowly, unsure how he was supposed to reply to that.

“I suffer through wearing killer heels for the same reason. If I don’t leave the palace feeling like I could kill someone then what’s the point?”

“This is why you terrify me,” Merlin admitted. “You spend an awful lot of time talking about murder.”

“I’m a princess, I can do what I want.” Morgana snagged a glass of wine from a passing waiter’s tray. “Besides, I guarantee you Lord Bayard’s son would change his mind right quick if he ever actually saw me without makeup. I mean, _you've_ seen me without makeup. What is your opinion of that?”

“Oh, uh…” A quick glance to the side showed Morgana looking at him expectantly and Merlin realized there was no way to avoid answering this. “I guess…”

Morgana rolled her eyes. “You can say I’m ugly without makeup Merlin, it’s okay.”

“But I don’t think you’re ugly without makeup,” Merlin rushed to say. “Honestly. This is not me lying to try and keep you from murdering me I think you look fine, can we please just change the subject?”

Morgana waved a dismissive hand. “You’re useless. My point is that Lord Bayard’s son is much more shallow than you. I guarantee you he has never actually seen a woman without makeup on. He keeps bringing up that picture floating around of Sophia Tir Mor, but I can promise you that bitch has makeup on. Foundation, a nice nude lipstick, and I don’t know how anyone can miss the liner! Men are idiots.”

They meandered through the crowd of guests, avoiding being drawn into conversation by pretending they were on their way to talk to someone on the other side of the room. Merlin noted that Morgana was keeping a close eye on the location of Lord Bayard’s son. Finally, after three circuits- _three whole circuits!_ \- of the entire room, they managed to find Mithian.

“Everyone keeps asking me when you got married, Morgana,” Mithian said, looking pointedly at where Morgana’s arm was linked with Merlin’s.

Morgana snorted. “Right, because it makes perfect sense that my husband would wear a wedding ring and I wouldn’t.”

“In the general public’s defense, the wedding was a small one,” Mithian pointed out, turning her pointed gaze now to Merlin.

“I’m still trying to get Arthur to tell me how he managed that.” Morgana joined Mithian in staring Merlin down. Impressive when you took into consideration that Merlin was taller than both women.

“Don’t ask me,” he said, shrugging. “One day we had no choice but to do the traditional thing and the next we were practically eloping.” There had been a ceremony, but as opposed to the very public wedding attended by a couple thousand people that Merlin had been dreading, it had been a small, quiet one attended by family and close friends.

“It doesn’t help that you two never show affection in public,” Morgana went on. “You barely even hold hands. Which is surprising considering how gross and cuddly you two are in private.”

“It’s weird out in public,” Merlin protested. “All the cameras and stuff make it weird. Like if we do so much as hold hands in public there are a hundred pictures about it in every different news source the next day and people are commenting on it trying to analyze exactly what it means and it’s just… weird, you know?”

“I do know,” Mithian chimed in. “It is weird to know that there are pictures of me and my wife that the general public can stare at and analyse to their heart’s content. But unfortunately it’s just part of the deal.”

“Yeah, I know,” Merlin muttered. It was a sucky part of the deal.

Morgana tossed her hair over her shoulder. “I think you should make an official announcement,” she declared.

“We did.” Merlin remembered it very well. The day they’d returned from their honeymoon Merlin had been dragged out to the front steps of the palace for a press conference where he’d had to keep rearranging his hands to make sure he was drawing enough attention to his wedding ring. There’d also been a bit of handholding and Arthur had kissed him on the cheek, which would’ve been fine had the king not been standing about a foot to their right.

“I’m not sure everyone took it very seriously. I think you should do another one and, just to be safe, this time there should be a nice long kiss on the lips, with tongue.”

Merlin sighed. “You’re disgusting.”

“Thank you.”


End file.
